Seeing my dream woman again and inheriting a cloth
I mention her so often in my autoethnography. She is my partner's stepmother. An 80-something year old Danish woman. A teacher of the French language. Mother of three boys and stepmother of two. She is an incredibly beautiful woman. She worked on humanitarian projects in her youth and taught Danish to fellow humans more recently. She is a leftist. With her, we oftentimes discuss politics, ecological and social degradation, relationships, zero-waste practices and so many other aspects of life. Books and articles nurture my mind and heart and accompany me on my academic journey. She inspires me just as much, if not more.
As I was sitting in her wonderful living room, full of old furniture and books, we were talking about relationships between humans. She was telling me about her first husband (he is French) speaking French to their two boys who were then responding in Danish to him. She then said that she'd recently revisited her collection of cloths that were passed on to her from other Women in her family, her mother and grandmother. Those cloths were handmade. She showed me her collection. Women spent so many hours creating this delicate embroidery. The cloths looked like magical snowflakes and fine lace from fairytales. She said that she wanted to give one to me, if I wanted it. I could then pass it on to the future generations. She jokingly said that if my future child is a girl, I can give it to her, and if it's a boy, then to his partner. I practise extreme minimalism and live with less than 50 personal possessions. And yet, I wanted to accept this beautiful gift. It made me think of slow living, of oneness with one's creation. When I was much younger, I used to create jewellery with tiny glass beads (seed beads). It was a self-transcending experience. She asked me which cloth I wanted, but I wanted her to choose. She chose the one in the picture above. Before I left, she asked me if I wanted a bag to carry it in, to protect this delicate work of art from damage. Her husband asked me if I wanted to take back the cotton bag I used for their gift (I gave my book to them), and she offered a plastic bag to me. I took the plastic bag because we rarely have them at home, and when we get them from someone else, we treasure them. I washed the one I received from them and used it to freeze some bananas.